


Rowaelin Short Stories

by introvertedpeg



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/introvertedpeg/pseuds/introvertedpeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Rowaelin short stories, some which may be multiple chapters and others which may only have one. Most will be NSFW, due to the lack of the stuff in the fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rowaelin Short Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This contains some pretty explicit scenes of sexual content! If you are not cool with that kind of stuff, here is your warning to turn away! If you are under 18, it's probably best you did not read this as people could get in trouble, but I never listened to that stuff when I was under 18 so go ahead and do as you'd like.
> 
> Also: There will be no character bashing! I will accept prompts though, which can include various kinks. I have no shame about that kind of content so request away!

**Title:** Moonlight (1/?)

**Summary:** Aelin has a hard time sleeping and Rowan discovers exactly why.

**Warnings:** NSFW, sexual encounters, masturbation

**Notes:** I have sinned with these hands of mine and I am not stopping now. Might have a sequel, depending on the reactions I get to this one!

* * *

 

She was thrashing in her sheets; the twelfth time that night since Aelin crawled into bed. At first, her wish of falling immediately asleep had been granted. It is when the dream began that Aelin pulled away from slumber, images of hands tracing down a scarred back awakening one part of her mind that she could not force back. Aelin huffed quietly, the thick bedding doing nothing for her condition, and turned for the thirteenth time.

Sometimes she would get these dreams, leaving her feeling entirely unsatisfied until Aelin finished it off herself. Until recently, however, the one teasing her in those dreams had been an ocean away, hidden inside a castle made of glass and his own lies. Now, though, the hands that caressed her, while calloused like Chaol’s, were tanned from centuries under the sun and filled with a natural grace that had made the dream her moan and beg and plead. Instead of her fingers threading through short, dark hair that tickled her palms, they tangled in long hair that glowed white in what she assumed was moonlight.

Biting her lip, Aelin surrendered in her struggle to silence her mind, giving the images from the dream full range on her actions. She was lucky, the male from her dreams was gone on an errand, one he said might take the whole night. And while she felt a little guilty for doing so in his own bed, she allowed her hands to roam, slipping under her clothes to cup her breasts, feeling the soft flesh and trying to imagine someone else’s hands in place of hers. Eager to get it over with and resume her rest, Aelin pushed her hands to go lower, smoothing over the planes of her stomach, under the waistbands of her sleeping pants and plain underwear. She breathed in quickly and closed her eyes, knowing just what it would take for her to reach the orgasm her senses wanted.

Aelin knew that it was her own fingers that got her there, but as she panted with each thrust inside of her she tried to imagine him there, his fingers coaxing her closer. She imagined his facial expression, the slight smirk on his lips without any bite to it paired with pine green eyes focused on her, reading each of her thoughts without her having to say a word. Him, leaning over her in a dominant gesture as he brought her into him. A breath of air hitting her neck as he would growl for her to come for him.

Back arching, Aelin felt herself come undone, his name barely more than a whisper between the sighs of relief as she sinks back down to the mattress. Until she tensed, dread flooding her as she sensed the room turn icy.

Eyes opening with a snap while her body leaps up, mortification makes her choke on air as she looks to see him shrouded in shadow by the door. He had seen just about everything, the hands tight on the bag thrown over his shoulder. Tighter still was his face and body, and she imagines the tattoo covering his face drawn close to his high cheekbones.

Aelin expected to feel a rise in heat in the form of a blush, but it didn’t come as ice slipped down her spine. Her lips managed to open and his name fluttered out, “Rowan – I-“ She shut herself up, glancing at her hands curled in the blanket. Wishing for a literal pit, rather than the mental kind, to open beneath her and swallow her whole, she managed to control her breathing and schooled her face into neutrality.

Still, Aelin could not keep the shame from coloring her voice as she looked back up at him, “I’m sorry. I think I will sleep somewhere else for the night. Your bed is far too… comfortable for me.”

A soft growl ripples through the room, causing Aelin to freeze as she got up. But she recognized the growl- not a warning, but one of building frustration, as Rowan finally opened his mouth to utter one word, “Why?”

It was all she could do to keep from gaping at the tall Fae, unable to read his expression with him standing in shadow. Collecting herself, and feeling like the most miserable person in the universe, she found words, “I had a dream.”

A moment passed, Rowan swallowing slowly, deliberately. “Of..?” The bag is no longer on his shoulder but on the ground, though he had not moved from his spot.

A brief flame of anger sparks in her, caused by the situation and had nothing to do with lack of sleep. Her voice snaps, hurt and desperation unfurling in her words and at his feet, “Of you and me being physically intimate, Rowan. I woke up and was horny, you do the math.” _And let me go find a suitable hole to live the rest of my short, miserable, human days in,_ she added in her head.

“Aelin,” his voice is anything but soothing as he took a step towards her.

“You don’t have to say a thing,” Aelin stops him with her words. Slamming a wall between her and her emotions, she continued, “I know you do not see me in that way, and never will. Just please, forget this ever happened and it will never become an issue again. If…” she paused, trying to sound mature but failing miserably. “I will likely make you uncomfortable, so I think I should move back to my room from now on.”

Rowan paused, “You don’t have to move, Fireheart.” He stepped forward, into the light where Aelin could see and sank into the bed. Sounding almost embarrassed, he mumbled into his hand, “I… Damn, you’re not the only one.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin studied his face, stunned at the words that came out of his mouth. The little bit she could see was just the faint hint of red on the delicate tips of his ears. “Have you…?”

Sighing, Rowan lowered his hand to face her finally, “Dreamed about you in such a way? Yes.”

She sucked in a breath, head spinning for a moment before barking out, “Why didn’t you-?”

“Tell you?” Rowan looked away for a moment, the red on his ears darkening, “You are my queen and my carranam. I didn’t know if my attraction to you was because of our bond or… something else.” His right hand briefly traced the outline of the sharp tattoo on the left hand, drawing Aelin’s attention there.

“Lyria.” Rowan tensed at her name, turning to stone before her eyes. “You feel like you’ll be betraying her.” Aelin scooted closer, sensing that while it was a sensitive topic, Rowan needed her there.

A breath of cold air fluttered through her hair as Rowan whispered, “Yes.”

It was Aelin’s turn to turn away, wondering at just how she could help her carranam. Biting her lip, she moved to touch him, but remembering what she had been doing only minutes before thought better of it and hurriedly wiped her fingers on her clothes. “Well. We won’t know unless we try? And I am willing to try, Rowan. I want to help. Remember?” Rowan had helped her when she needed it most, gave her a head start out of that horrible darkness. Now she needed to do the same for him.

“I remember, Fireheart,” Rowan closed his eyes. “But you deserve better.” Despite his words, Rowan leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.

Fighting against the rising blush in her cheeks, Aelin scowled, “Then were your words merely bravado? What happened to “I claim you to whatever end?” Stop that, you are exactly what I want. I can’t think of anyone better.”

“Not even the captain?” Rowan replied, his voice filled with resignation.

“Not even Chaol,” Aelin licked her lips, wondering just where this was going.

“Then,” Rowan opened his eyes, the green shining brilliantly in the bright moonlight, “I guess I should try.” And without a second thought, he was kissing her, fighting the hesitation he was feeling to once in his life fight for what he really wanted.

And Aelin responded, punching through his hesitation to wrap herself around Rowan like thread around its spool. Where he was cautious, she was anything but- trying to draw out the passion Aelin knew was just below the surface. The passion she felt whenever his magic flowed through her, whenever they ran through the woods, whenever he held her up when she was slipping. Aelin wanted it, wanted to taste it and feel it on her skin.

Rowan’s fingertips grazed her cheekbones, memorizing the shape of her face before tracing down the column of her neck. He felt the fiercely beating pulse, a sign of her passion outside of their fiercely moving lips. There was no more hesitation, and he let the fire fill every pore of him. It was a sensation he had sworn he would never give in to again, but with Aelin by his side, he had a feeling he would be okay.

Sensing the change in him, Aelin sighed in contentment, opening her mouth to offer her tongue to Rowan. He took it in eagerly, tasting of what could only be described as cold spring water and mint as he sucked on her tongue. Squirming in excitement and no longer tired in any sense, Aelin moaned quietly and threaded her fingers through his hair, encouraging his touches and pulling closer to him. She was barely surprised when she felt the beginning of an erection press against her as she rocked her hips against his, causing him to tense for a moment.

Growling softly in response, Rowan released her tongue, pressing his lips just under her jaw. “Are you still horny?” His teeth lightly scraped against the tender skin of her neck, waiting for her response.

The underlying warmth in Rowan’s usually icy tone combined with the possibility of what the words meant made Aelin shudder. Trying to sound as stable as he did, she replied, “Even more than before.”

Rowan rumbled against her in a soft chuckle, lifting his head to graze his lips against his lips against her ear as he said, “I might be able to fix that.”

“Now, now, I’m supposed to be the one helping you,” Aelin pulled away, grinning despite her own fire burning through her. Gingerly, she pulled the tie from Rowan’s hair, letting the silver locks flow free as she brought her fingers through them, continuing to rock her hips against Rowan’s.

Rowan gave her a sharp-toothed grin, eyes dark, “Well, if you insist, Aelin.” As her fingernails lightly scratched his scalp, Rowan swallowed a moan, throwing his head back to show the strong column of his neck working to keep silent.

Thanking the gods for her limited experience and the many cheesy romance novels she had read, Aelin smiled and leaned forward, pressing all of her torso against Rowan’s, feeling every muscle against her and having to bite back a groan of her own. She focused on Rowan, though, to every reaction he made as she carefully trailed her lips down the length of his, placing gentle kisses and the occasional nip of teeth as she made her way to his collarbones. And what she learned, was that the skin right by his curved and jagged tattoos were the most sensitive. Not wanting to leave any marks visible to others however, Aelin pulled her hands from Rowan’s hair to lift his simple grey tunic off of him, followed by the thin cotton shirt.

“Don’t just stare, Fireheart. It’s not polite,” Rowan exhaled, opening his eyes again to smile at the appreciative eyes on him. His fingers curled around her wrist, bringing Aelin’s hand to rest against his chest, “I’m not an art exhibit. You can touch me.”

Aelin huffed, but admired the feel of the muscle under her hand as she brought the other to his chest. “And what about you, Mr. Hawk-Eyes? Anything you’ve seen but want to touch?”

Rowan’s smile changed, and Aelin felt her heart flutter in her throat while her stomach simultaneously dropped to the bottom of her spine. “If we are going to play that game, then we’ll be needing far more time than what we have right now.”

_Gods_ , she thought, _Rowan is going to kill me before we can even get to the fun part of this._ She returned his smile, resting her face close enough that they exchanged each other’s air, and breathed, “Oh, I think I have a couple hours to spare for you, Rowan Whitethorn.”


End file.
